 Personal notice, dangerous my stock and trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Write full details. Say, have you got any skeletons hanging in the closet? If so, dig them out and set them by the radio. Because we have a dandy story that's gonna make them feel right at home. It's called Uncle Harry's Bones and it's complete, all except for his floating ribs you lost somewhere between 18th and 19th on Chestnut Street. Now where they keep Uncle Harry's mortal remains, only time will tell. Besides, George Valentine has to have something to do for the next little while, otherwise he wouldn't be able to go around saying, let George do it, which would not be good since that is his aim in life. Anyway, if the maestro will throw us a bone in E flat, we'll get on with the epic. My dear Mr. Valentine, you will please report to me at the statement farm that's two miles down the road from Pine Lake if you turn right at the Red Silk Post office or the house with the unpainted shutters if you come over the hill. I want you to clearly understand that you're working for me no matter what anybody says and Lordy knows the people around here know how to say things. For instance, they all say Uncle Harry is their uncle, but he's not, he's mine and nobody else's. Mr. Valentine, please come quick. My trouble is I don't know if Uncle Harry is Uncle Harry or somebody else's who's not important. I've got to find out, now don't you think? Sincerely, so be stern event. Hey friend, hey you. Hello, we're looking for the sturdiment place. Oh, down the road past the hill. If you're looking for Doc Sellers, he's just gone into town, I think. Doc Sellers, who's he? No, it's Sophie Sturdiment we wanted to see. Oh, Sophie, her. Oh, it's funny. Nothing, Doc's your brother, he's all right. What's the matter with her? Nothing. Okay, thanks. Look out for your foot. Hold up, hold up. Don't see many strangers around here. Where are you from? Looney bin? Sure, Sophie's all right. What are you driving at, Buster? My name's Dorky, what are you driving at? So tell me something, where does Sophie's Uncle Harry live? Who? Uncle Harry, some kind of a character around here, I get it? Nope, no Uncle Harry around here. But she wrote it. Look, this is a nice, peaceful place. People don't like strangers making trouble. None of my business, none of yours. That well enough alone, I say, you'll live longer. You know what I'd do if I were George? Go back to town. Ah, but not Phyllis Valentine. Besides, he's got Bruxy there to help him. Just like I've got this to help you. Now let's see if George and Bruxy took the old-timers' advice to get out of town. Nope, I guess they didn't. Because there they are, walking up to Sophie's front door. It's kind of a rundown place, isn't it? And all the places around here seem to be George. Yeah. Mrs. Sturdivan. The door's open. She's probably out back in the kitchen. Mrs. Sturdivan? Sophie? She's not in the kitchen, George? Of course she is now. What do you think does the cooking around here anyway? Hello. We didn't mean to walk right in. You must be Doc Sellers. Well, I ain't Abraham Lincoln. You looking for Sophie? Uh-huh. I'm George Valentine. This is Ms. Brooks. I've seen your car up there. Just come in, myself. Hey, sis, come to the party. You're a doctor, are you? Sure, sure. You want a pill? Here. Oh. Pretty good size, eh? No, I haven't practiced for years, but I still got these. I was over trying to unjoke a neighbor's horse yesterday. Eminent saw bones, that's me. Uh-huh, you're a vet. Yeah. Retired livestock killer. Sophie! Hey, Sophie! Upstairs, I guess, working on a butterfly collection. Come on through. Sophie, for the love of my life. Hey, I must have fallen down the stairs, George. I'm all right, I'm all right. Here, get her over to the couch. I'm all right. Um, Zeax, what'd you do? Tipped over your own feet? Oh, hey, let me. She didn't fall downstairs. Uh-huh. Yes, I did. That's what I must have done. But how did your face get those blotches on it? How'd you get that black eye? No one hit me. What'd you say that for? I mean, I fell, that's all. Look, did somebody slap you? Knock you down? No, no, no, no. Who was it? Why? When did it happen? Stop it, stop it. We've come to help yourself. So why won't you tell us what? Oh. Huh? Well, what are you looking at me for? No reason. Just wondered why she's still so scared. Oh, no, that's ridiculous. Doc's my brother. Oh, hey, Douglas. Douglas, come on in here. Is Douglas with you? Yeah, I just got back from looking at the old office. What did you find? Nothing. I don't blame the thing. Oh, look, both of you, what are you talking about? Yes, Doc. What is it? What do you want? Hey, Valentine, Miss Brooks, Douglas Kent. This is your law. I'm not the kind of man who beats up his own sister. How do you do? Hi. Sophie, what's happened? I'm all right, Douglas. Doug, here's another crazy e-gabiva, like Sophie is, Mr. Valentine. Going off half-cock whenever he gets to. Mr. Valentine, she here to help us. Isn't that right, Sophie? He's here to help find out. Oh, look, will somebody please explain what this is all about? No. No, I think that perhaps I was wrong. What? Mr. Valentine, I shouldn't have been so hasty in writing. Uncle Harry, that's what it's all about. Uncle Harry? No, at least not. Oh, be quiet, Sophie. You started it. Let's finish it. Mia, I'll show him to you. Show him? Uncle Harry, the great Uncle Harry, so they say. Yes, if you so. Skeleton. Nothing but a skeleton. Uncle Harry's bones. Says you. I was out fishing in the lake, Mr. Valentine, and my line got tangled, and here he is. But just a skeleton. I don't see how you can tell. Who was Uncle Harry? Man disappeared five years ago. Man had bought out the breeding farms, a hermit. Sophie's uncle. Well, look, I don't know much about anatomy, but is a shin bone supposed to look like this? Well, go on, Doc, tell him. Oh, sure, sure, sure. Jump to conclusions, yeah. I made the mistake of remembering that I once set a fracture for Harry, that's all. It's what I get for playing MD. We've been downtown looking for the x-rays in Doc's old office. We were going to the barn, too, to check in his old trunks and things. You see, I thought that if we could find the x-ray that he took five years ago, it might give us a positive way of identifying them. Bones are bones. I'm not going to tell you anything. How about this? Piece of rusty wire tangled around his leg. George. The leg is full of stuff. It don't mean anything, either. That would mean something if we knew his leg was tied with wire before he died. Exactly, Mr. Valentine. That's just the way I. See, everybody reads mysteries. Goes off half-cocked. Well, what kind of a skeptic are you, Doc? Why don't you think it's Uncle Harry? Mr. I don't think one way or another. Only lots of people come up some as to fission. That leg could be practically anybody. OK, Doc, I'm going to go with you to keep looking for that x-ray. Douglas, get the local sheriff up here as fast as you can and tell him to send for a police x-ray, man, too. Brooks, you take care of Sophie. Look, I'm just as upset about Sophie as you are. Don't bother, Doc. I finally got the idea. It's a skeleton and the closet we're after. Well, come on, then. We're going to start opening doors. I'm going to set the blame leg in the first place if there was a real saw bones around. Lasted a bunch of recluses in this part of the woods. Yeah, sure. Try this box here. Old Sears robot catalogs. Blasted cobwebs. Hey, how about the tin one? Oh, yeah, let me see. Your x-ray stuff ought to be boxed up some way that you could find it. Doc, where are you? Oh, that's your sheriff right here. Meet Mr. Valentine. We're some cleaning out an old attic. Don't stick your part at me, young man. Wow, wow, wow. What's your trouble, Sheriff? Don't you like to know what's going on in your territory? No, all about it. Don't need any city boys to come telling me what my job is. Uncle Harry disappeared five years ago. Let's leave him that way, I say. You're not interested in skeletons, are you? Sheriff, I think I'd like to have a little talk with you before we leave. I'll put your blabber and give us your pocket knife. Oh, yeah, here. Airtight box. Maybe you got it. I don't know. Yeah, sure. That looks like negatives. Hey, look out for that spider. Open up closets. I can't expect to be in bit. Here. Let's see. Uh-huh. No, that's a horse, isn't it? Uncle Harry, horse spider. What difference does it make? Uncle Harry, there you are. Name day, chin bone. That's him, all right. Here, let's get it in the light. Well, now, it could be the same as the skeleton. Looks the same to me. Set crooked on top there. Like a hundred others, I suppose. Holy smokes, Mr. Valentine. I can't tell for sure. Sheriff, did you get that police X-ray man? Yeah, over at the house. Mr. Kennedy. OK, give me that X-ray. Come on. Absolutely, there's no question about it. But isn't it true lots of people have broken bones, Kennedy? I'll be glad to swear before a jury that this is the same bone. Before a jury? Of course, Mr. Valentine. Hasn't anyone here noticed the fracture in the skull? Here, right here. Well, no. Enough to cause death, I should say, in that location. I will also testify that the fracture must have been made before the body became a skeleton. In other words, the X-ray proves it's Uncle Harry. Precisely. And the combination of fracture and wire around the legs unquestionably proves that he was murdered. There you are. Quite simple. Murder. You was Uncle Harry all right, Sheriff. But the important thing is, who did it? Sure, sure, Sophie. Now me and Mr. Valentine. Wait a minute. Listen to her. Young lady, I've known Sophie for years. And anything that's. But she knows who killed him. Is she what? Of course I do. And I always knew what had happened, too. And that's why I hired you, Mr. Valentine, to catch him. Somewhere in Manitoba, Canada, I think, was the last place. You know, he sends me check to see that's because he feels guilty about the way he treats me. Gary was a skin flint, a miser, a blood sucker. I've sent descriptions. I've had detectives after him, lots of times. But they've never been able to catch him. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Please, both of you. She's talking about her husband, George, her second husband. He only married me because of Uncle Harry's money. And I was the relative. But Uncle Harry was too smart for him. He'd never give him any. Oh, no, not him. Sophie, why do you? Bunker his name is. And when you find him, you'll hang him. Won't you, Mr. Valentine? I know Bunker did it. He always said he'd get Harry's money. And five years ago, he did it. Don't you see? And then he disappeared. Hold it, hold it, will you please? This Bunker, what happened? Was he a husband that ran away from you? I beg your pardon? I sent him away. Don't you understand? He was no good, and I sent him away. That's why I'm using my first husband's name. Bunker was a lying cheat. And he killed Uncle Harry, and I sent him away before I knew what he'd done. Well, get him, that's all. Get him and hang him. And now, Valentine, will you listen to the voice of reason for a minute? Bunker ran away from Sophie in San Francisco. But it was two months before Uncle Harry disappeared. Sophie's just a little cracked on the subject, that's all. As I figure, Bunker's the one person probably didn't kill Uncle Harry. Forget him. What do you mean? Only area around here. Anything can happen. Nobody will be able to remember. Five years is a long time. OK, OK, I understand it all now. It isn't just the skeleton in her closet, is it? Nope. Sophie wanted me to prove it was Uncle Harry, so she could prove it was her no good husband who did it. Instead, now we've got to solve a five-year-old crime that everybody else would have to have hushed up, because everybody in the whole area is a suspect for murder. And you know who will get the last laugh? Uncle Harry's bones. Now tell me, how is that possible? For Uncle Harry to start laughing, that is. It isn't. Not unless all that's left of Harry is his funny bone, which is a nice, happy thought. However, in case it didn't hit you quite right, here's something that's not off the elbow. And now, it seems your client, Sophie, is the only one who ever liked Uncle Harry. Everyone else, including the sheriff, would prefer to let sleeping dogs lie. And if your name is George Valentine, you know how hopeless it will be to try to solve a five-year-old crime when everyone in town is a suspect. Sheriff Harry was a miser, wasn't he? A hermit and a miser. What are you getting at? I don't know. Gold. Mises have gold, don't they? Of course they do. If they're smart, like Harry was. Sure, that's why he was killed, I guess. What do you mean? Well, most of his money was in property. But people always said he had a good many thousand dollars stashed away somewhere. Somewhere like where? Up around that place he is. I could never find any. And I'm the one who boarded the place up after he disappeared. And Uncle Harry's place? You mean, you mean there's a house, a farm or something? It's a cabin. Nothing but a cabin. Well, come on, Brooks, see what are we waiting for? About a mile around the lake from here. I boarded her up solid in case he ever came back. George, what about Sophie? Never mind her. Now I know who smacked her. Not much of a cabin for a rich man, is it? No. At least he kept it neat and clean. Turn your flashlight over here. Oh. Just a desk, that's all. Do you think there's any point in the light through it? Not if you're looking for money. Listen. Oh, it's just the wind, I guess. Hey, wait, Brooksy. What? A brick out of the fireplace. Yeah, a nice little hole underneath. Maybe Uncle Harry did have some money. Sure, of course he did. What's the matter? Hole in the mattress. Place for a box, or? Hey, look out. Oh, I tripped. Well, there's nothing funny about it. Yes, there is. Loose board, ain't it? This place is honeycomb with old hiding spots. All of them empty. Look, look, here's a coin. This one wasn't empty. I mean, once upon a time. None of them were from the looks of it. I mean, that doesn't quite make sense, does it? What do you mean, George? You know, what a kind of tough old guy that Harry must have been. I don't. Duck, duck, Angel. Get down, get down, turn off that flashlight. George? Take it easy, though. This is who I think it is. The man with the shovel. I can see him in the doorway. All right, shut the door, Buster. There's a grand. Never mind the match. George, look out for the shovel. Get away from him. All right, I guess now we can have some light, Angel. Well, it's our neighbor. What's your name? Dorky, that right? There's no way. Sure, sure, I'll let go. The man who warned us away, the man who said Sophie, was just ridiculous. The man who warned Sophie away, you mean? What? I did not. You got mad and hit her, too. That's a sult. Now look, listen to me. All a matter of geography. I remember what she wrote me about the two roads. And Doc Sellers and Douglas went to town this morning. That's in the other direction from your place by the hill. So how did you know that Doc had gone to town? He wouldn't have gone past you. That's the wrong direction. So I guess you knew he was gone because you'd been over there. Sophie yourself must have told you where he was. Don't prove anything. No, but your shovel does. I wondered why a guy who committed murder five years ago would be stupid enough to commit an overt act today. Murder? Now look, I hated Uncle Harry. Sure, but I- I didn't say you did. Did I? Relax, relax, Buster. You're just a little greedy, that's all. Come digging for the miser's cash. George, I don't understand. When people thought Uncle Harry disappeared, they naturally assumed he took his loot with him. Now it seems he was murdered. That makes it a little different. Nobody alive would be smart enough to kill him and find all of it. An old cow-hide skin-flint like that did it. I know, I know. That's why you wanted Sophie to stop raising alarm. If everybody knew for sure Uncle Harry was dead, why you'd get trampled in the rush up here. He built me out of some of my property. You can't blame me for wanting- Buster, I'm not blaming you for anything. That's not my job. Now get out. Go on, go home. George, what on earth- Come on, come on. You heard me. There isn't any gold around here. What's the matter, Angel? Don't you understand? We're all through with this case. Oh, sure, Coroner. There's not much to say. I've given him a testimony. He's identified the body. That's all we need from Dark Cellars. Well, Sheriff, who has got something to say? I understood this fella, Valentine, had caught somebody up with Uncle Harry Shack. I know this isn't a court, but we sure want to hear everything that- I haven't got anything to add, Coroner. Now we'll see you here, Valentine. No, Coroner. I'm all through with this case. Yeah, I'm on my way back to the city. Valentine. What was the idea back there at the inquest? There's no idea, Doc. I'll see here if you think our sheriff is careful. The sheriff's all right, Douglas. Big compliment. He only wishes it were true. All right, now listen, all of you. Uncle Harry was a heel. The whole town wished him dead. Sheriff, when the skeleton was found, your idea was to let sleeping dogs lie. Not exactly, but holy smoke, we've got to live with the people, you know. This place has been pretty nice for the past five years. Well, then? We'll take care of Dorky all right. For a self, that's all, Sheriff. That's your business. Yeah, but now I've got a murder to solve. You help get this rolling. You can't just walk off. All right, all right, keep your shirt on, Sheriff. You won't have to nail anybody in your town for murder. But you said that the loo- I'm going to start at the beginning. Five years ago, Uncle Harry the Hermit, the miser, the boy with the gold. Somebody comes and tries to get his gold, kills him, takes his gold. But you've been up to the cabin, Sheriff. How did the killer find all the loot in at least three separate hiding spots? Well, we could have twisted the old boy's arm or dug around. Nothing was disturbed. He went right to the spots. Yeah, I remember. And if he got rough with Harry, would Harry have told him where all the spots were? Well, no. I see what you mean. No, you don't, Douglas. Maybe Sophie's an unhappy, bitter woman, but she had the right idea. Sheriff sent some telegrams to, uh, where was it she got her last money order from someplace in Manitoba, Canada? Bunker, that no good husband or his, he's the one. Bunker? Well, I grant you, he could have come up here after he left Sophie in San Francisco. I guess nobody would have known if he was out at Harry's place. Yeah, but she's had detectives looking for Bunker, tracing those little money orders he sent once in a while. That's right. They ain't been able to find him, Valentine. OK, OK. But, Doc, you wouldn't be able to lie about X-rays of anybody who's still around here, would you? I mean, right out in public court and all? No, no, no, you couldn't do that. You'd be caught up. What are you talking about? Perjury. I waited just long enough for you to commit perjury at the coroner's inquest, Doc. Well, what are you? What are you talking about? A tin box with a live spider. Spider? That's what gave me the idea, and it's the only way to explain everything. Suppose the spider got in there when the box was open, say, a few days ago, by Doc alone. You're crazy. No more than your sister is. Suppose you switched some X-rays. We'll tie that together, what I said about Uncle Harry's hiding places. There's only one person who could have gone right to the hiding places, and that's Uncle Harry himself. No, no, look. But he couldn't do that if he were dead, could he? All right, then. Suppose Doc here once treated a fracture for Bunker. Bunker? Oh, boy, that would be... Yeah, as simple as that. Five-year-old crime. Man killed another man, threw him in the lake. And now, because his sister would inherit some property and so on, Doc decides to make the skeleton into Uncle Harry when it's really the skeleton of Bunker. That's not true. Now, Sheriff, you've got to believe right now. Perjury, Doc. Perjury, remember? But Sheriff, I think the reason detectives haven't been able to trace Bunker is pretty simple now, don't you? Wrong description. Just send a description to Canada of Uncle Harry. They'll get him all right. And there you are, Sheriff. Instead of just a bunch of bones, Uncle Harry is a real, live murderer. Uncle Harry? Well, I'll... Hey, Valentine, wait a minute. Where are you going? Back to the gal what brought me. Sophie. Yeah, there's a lot more important stuff to clear up in this case than dead skeletons. Yeah, Sheriff, I got a live client to drag out of her closet. A gal who hired me and then slammed doors in my face. Why? Well, in a couple of seconds I'll find out. You know, I'm kind of sorry for old Sophie. I've got a feeling that when George gets through with her, she'll be sorry the story wasn't called Aunt Sophie's bones. But while we're waiting for the worst, let's give a listen to the best. He hated Harry. Bunker hated Harry. Sure, Sophie. He must have come here to get some money out of Harry, and Harry defended himself, I guess. It's been sweet of Uncle Harry to send me the money orders all this time. Even if it is trapping you? I wouldn't be too sure it was sweet. It's kept the illusion that Bunker was still alive. He'd do that on purpose. Oh, yes. Good hat. In fact, I wouldn't be too sure you love that uncle as much as you claim. I think you just hated Bunker. But now Bunker's dead. Now you know he's dead. People can waste a lot of time hating, can't they? Oh, Sophie, I'll tell you something. He wasted a lot of our time before I caught on while you hired me, then didn't want to talk. Well, I told you you were working. Well, I didn't think it was just dorkies getting rough. It was the fact you began to remember whose leg had really been fractured, wasn't it? Well, I couldn't understand what the doc was up to. I'm so glad it was only perjury. Makes me feel much better. And he'd been willing to wait another two years? You might have had Uncle Harry declared legally dead and collected his property that way. Yeah, but Doc wouldn't wait. That's too good an opportunity. And the ironic part is, if it had worked, Uncle Harry couldn't have done anything about the inheritance slipping away from him, not without admitting the whole story. Well, I can see why Doc was tempted already. Doc hated Harry. Such a waste of time. You said that before about hatred being waste of time. I collect butterflies, you know. People say I have about as much brains as one. But anybody who wastes time is brave. Sure, butterflies. I suppose so, yeah. He's stupid, isn't he? Doesn't learn any lessons from seeing what happens when I'm happy, Mary. Don't worry, Sophie. I'm the teacher. Well, what is this? Come along, George. Time to say goodnight. Oh, now you haven't seen my butterfly collection. You come upstairs with me, and I'll show you my room. Well, you can hang Buster back in the closet now. It's all over. Oh, but before you do, be sure to tell it that George Valentine was played by Robert Bailey and Virginia Gregg played Bruxy. The story was written by David Victor and Jackson Gillis and Eddie Dunstetter dug up the music. Now this is yours truly inviting you to another visit with Valentine when you will again hear what happens when you let George do it.